


Lightning in a Bottle

by RoonilWazlibMalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Blow Jobs, Dreams, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, Hogwarts, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Potions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:02:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27631786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoonilWazlibMalfoy/pseuds/RoonilWazlibMalfoy
Summary: An accidental hex during a mock duel with his friends left James Potter a little embarrassed and a lot uncomfortable. His visit to the hospital wing opened up his eyes about a lot of things that he'd been perfectly happy not knowing about himself. Was it possible that the cure brought with it more problems than the affliction?
Relationships: James Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 58
Kudos: 247





	1. My Mind is Running

**Author's Note:**

> This story was intended to be a smutty one-shot. I'm not really sure what happened, but a lot of plot crept in and now I'm on a wild ride with these crazy kids. 
> 
> My original self-prompt was "I've got a big dick and I'm tired of taking responsibility for my own actions." Better get used to it, James. Looks like you're going to be taking a lot of responsibility. Lol
> 
> I'm not sure how long this will end up being, but I have quite a few chapters already in the wings. It's not really based on Electric Love by Børns but that's what's been running through my head as I write. I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> -Prongs

It was a stupid thing, really. When James had been play-dueling with Sirius in the halls before breakfast, he hadn't expected that it would turn into such an ordeal. Not that he ever gave much thought to his actions; he just did what seemed like fun at the time and dealt with the consequences later. 

Only this time, the consequences might have been a bit more than he could reasonably handle. 

"Oh, goodness." Madam Pomfrey had taken a cursory evaluation of his, honestly ridiculous, injury then rolled her eyes at him. "Well, Mr. Potter, you can expect some interesting dreams today while we take care of that little problem."

He wanted to take offense at that. It wasn't a little problem at all. It was a very large problem and, no matter what he did to it, it would not go away. The walk from Gryffindor Tower to the hospital wing with a raging boner may not have been the most embarrassing thing he'd ever done, but it was certainly high up on the list. 

As it turned out, the only cure for this particular hex was a good nap and a potion that would give him all manner of vivid sexy dreams. Madam Pomfrey hadn't worded it exactly like that, but he'd gotten the idea well enough. Yes, he was annoyed to miss a day of class and quidditch practice for such a stupid problem and yes, he was rather embarrassed that most of the school had seen the evidence of his affliction standing up proudly beneath his robes, but the cure, he thought, wouldn't be so bad. 

Images of fiery hair and green eyes scrolled through his mind. No, he thought, sexy Evans dreams wouldn't be a bad thing at all. His mind then supplied a flash of black hair and his eyes widened. Oh, Regulus, he thought. He could live with that, too.

He wasn't quite ready to tell Sirius about that particular crush. He wasn't even certain that he was ready to acknowledge that crush himself but, burrowing under the blankets in his hospital wing bed, he thought perhaps some sexy dreams would give him a better idea of how to feel about it. Either way, the cure to this hex was certain to supply him with wanking material for weeks to come and he wasn't at all bothered by it. He closed his eyes and drifted quickly to sleep.

¤¤¤¤¤

Kissing the arch of a delicately boned foot, James ran his hand up a leg lightly covered with dark hair. Regulus then, he thought, unbothered by the prospect. Witches and wizards each had their own appeal as far as he was concerned. 

His mouth followed his hand as he gently kissed a calf, the inside of a knee, a pale thigh. He had no control over his actions within the context of the dream; he was only along for the ride as he knelt before a mouth-watering cock, standing up from a nest of black curls above a pair of heavy balls. 

After pressing a kiss to the tip of that cock, tasting the salty pre-come gathered there, he moved down, gently drawing the balls into his mouth and sucking softly on them, one after the other. Long fingers tightened in his hair and the sound of low pleased moaning filled the quiet room. He moved up again and licked the hard perfect cock in front of him. He didn't think he'd ever been more turned on. 

Slowly he crawled up that lean pale body, kissing and nibbling all the way. He sucked hard on a small dark nipple, drawing it into a hard little peak. 

Finally, he reached his lover's face. He slipped a hand between them and gripped both their cocks in one hand, rubbing them firmly and reveling in the sensation of having another man's cock pressed to his. He opened his eyes, ready to lean down and kiss the other man, to praise his beauty, and saw…

_ Snivellus?? _

Still having no control of himself, he leaned down anyway and pressed his lips to Snape's thin ones. Resting on his elbow, he ran his free hand over a sharp cheekbone, the hard line of his jaw. He pumped their cocks with increasing speed until they each spilled together. He listened as Snape whispered his name in a worshipful tone until the dream faded out. He was disgusted to find that he didn't hate the sound of it. 

¤¤¤¤¤

His hands were wrapped around a pair of sharp hip bones as he plunged his throbbing cock into a hot, almost impossibly tight hole. Thrusting in and out a few times, he then reached down with his left hand and wrapped his fingers around the other man's cock, beginning to stroke it in time with his thrusts. 

Upon opening his eyes, he was not at all surprised to see a pale expanse of back and a head of greasy black hair before him. He had absolutely no idea what to think about any of this but, since he had no control over it, all he could do was go along for the ride.

The feeling of his balls nudging Snape's body with every thrust was indescribable. The way his rim was stretched wide around James' cock, clinging to him hungrily every time he pulled out, was a thing of beauty. Snape's cock felt firm and heavy and right in his calloused hand. The name "Severus" fell from his lips like a prayer. 

Snape came before he did this time, spilling come onto the bed beneath them and onto James' fingers. He slipped them into his mouth to taste the salty sweetness gathered there as Snape's arse contracted around his cock, squeezing him in the most delicious way. Between the taste of his come and the tight heat of his arsehole, James didn't stand a chance of lasting any longer. With one more deep thrust, his balls tightened and he began spilling his own load into Snape. 

To his surprise, the dream did not end there. He rolled Snape over then and climbed on top of him, kissing him deeply, licking into his mouth. He kissed down Snape's body, marking his throat, biting his nipples. Despite having just come, his body was still an inferno of need and desire. 

When he reached Snape's groin, he threw the man's legs over his shoulders, exposing his now softened cock and his balls, exposing his leaking little arsehole. It was that hole that James went for, pressing his lips to it to give it a filthy kiss. He sucked his own come out of Snape and dipped his tongue inside his softened rim. He tasted exquisite. 

_ I could do this for the rest of my life _ , James thought, forgetting for a moment that he should be horrified by that statement. He felt his own cock stirring again as he kissed and licked Snape's arse, nosing at his soft balls.

The dream faded out of existence then, and James felt a fleeting sense of disappointment as it did.

¤¤¤¤¤

He was in the showers in the Quidditch locker room, hot water beating down on his back. The scent of sweat and leather filled his nose as a pair of long fingers slid in and out of his arse, gently rubbing at a spot that made his knees weak, as a pair of lips moved up and down over his cock. Looking down, he ran his fingers through slick black hair. Deep dark eyes stared up at him. 

"Severus," he gasped, begging. "I'm ready. Please."

Snape smirked at him, even as his mouth was full of hard cock. Then he slid off with a pop, his fingers still moving in James' hole.

"Are you?" he asked, his voice low and dark. He pulled his fingers away and stood; water dripped down his pale body. He was a good half-dozen inches shorter than James and far less muscular, but there was no question of who was in control here. It was exhilarating, feeling like he was at Snape's mercy. 

Snape spun them around then, so that his own back was to the water and James' back was pressed against his chest. Their slick wet bodies flush against one another, he kissed James' shoulder and ran a hand over his stomach. "Bend over," he whispered, giving James a little shove. 

He bent without resistance, placing his hands against the cool tile wall for balance. He felt empty and needy, desiring anything that Snape was willing to give him. He heard the man mutter a lubricating spell – Praelino – and then felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against his entrance. Without a thought, he pushed back, sliding that slick cock inside him.

Never before had he felt so full. Never before had he imagined that he'd love that feeling. Snape murmured kind words, soothing words, even as he set a brisk steady pace. With the angle he was entering him at, he was brushing that amazing spot with nearly every thrust and James thought he could likely come just from that stimulation. 

Then in that low dusky voice, Snape uttered the magic words, words that sent him over the top. His voice was like bottled sex and James' skin felt electrified when he said, "Come for me, my dove." 

Mere moments after having the idea that he could come untouched, he was doing just that, spurts of hot fluid spraying the tile in front of him just from the feel of Snape filling him, from the sound of his deep voice filled with affection. Snape stilled behind him, gripping his hips tightly as he found his own release. 

"I love you so much," James gasped.

Pale arms wrapped around him. He could feel Snape's nose pressed against the back of his neck as he whispered, "And I love you," just as the dream faded to black.


	2. Thunder's Getting Louder

"What the fuck?!" James exclaimed as he sat upright in the hospital bed.

"Language, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey chided as she made her way over to him, waving her wand to run another diagnostic charm. "I did warn you the dreams would be vivid."

Running a hand through his already wild hair, James said, "You were right. That wasn't quite what I expected." He took a deep breath. "It doesn't mean anything, does it?"

Madam Pomfrey's blue eyes twinkled and she gave a friendly smirk. He definitely was  _ not _ reminded of ugly old Snivellus when he saw her smirking like that. "The potion you were just on is highly regulated for a reason, Mr. Potter. It gives you potent dreams about the person you most deeply desire. As you can imagine, that could be disastrous…"

"Oh, no, Madam Pomfrey," he cut her off with a nervous laugh."I think you have it wrong. You must mean the person you least desire."

Her plump face grew thoughtfully skeptical as she gazed back at him, her lips drawn into a thin line. "Perhaps you're right, dear," she said finally. "You're free to go now." 

Getting up, he slipped on his shoes and gathered his things. He hadn't realized that the cure would take all day, causing him to miss all of his classes. At least he could count on Moony to have taken decent notes on everything. Not that he really wanted to be in class anyway but, given that it was his final year at school, he knew he had to do something if he wanted to do well on his NEWTS.

His mind drifted as he walked back up to Gryffindor Tower, thankfully boner free this time. Why on earth had he had to spend his day dreaming about Snivellus of all people? And why couldn't he stop thinking about him now? The way that his slim body had felt pressed against his, the warmth in his chest when he'd called him "my dove." How right it had all felt. 

He probably ought to be humiliated, if he was being honest with himself, but he couldn't convince himself to feel that way. I love you had fallen from his lips like honey, and it had felt good in the moment. It still felt good to think about. Madam Pomfrey had to be wrong about that potion! It must have replaced his real fantasy person with his worst enemy. That had to be it! 

Right??

He really wasn't too sure. Who would have expected a fake duel and a stupid hex to muddle his thoughts so badly? He really hadn't even been positive about who he liked before. Now he was even less certain about things. 

_ Okay, old boy _ , he thought.  _ You just need to work it out. No one else needs to know about any of it until after you figure yourself out.  _ Yes, that sounded good. He could do that. 

One thing he was absolutely certain of was that he had liked the feeling of Sev – no, Snape, he corrected – against his body. The hard lines of his chest, the sharpness of his jaw, the thick length of his cock. That probably meant something. He figured that what it meant was that Lily was out for the time being. She was very beautiful and he loved her snarky wit, but the fact that he wasn't thinking about soft curves right now probably should indicate that he maybe didn't like her in quite that way. 

She was always hanging around with Snape though. Or she used to?? He wasn't sure he'd seen them together in a while actually.. Not that it mattered at all. He definitely wasn't considering that big-nosed twat. 

That left Regulus then. Boy, would Sirius be annoyed about it. Regulus was very nice to look at though. He had perfect dark hair and big dark eyes… or were they grey? 

"Dammit, Snivellus!" he exclaimed. He couldn't work anything out in his mind if all he could think of was that Slytherin git. Snape was the one with dark hair and eyes, his pale skin set off by the emerald green trim of his school robes. Snape was the one continually invading his thoughts, thanks to Madam fucking Pomfrey and her miracle boner cure.

Giving the fat lady the current password – luminiferous ether – he stepped into the Common Room in a daze. Thankfully, no one was here yet to question him about his day. He really was not ready to talk about it. He wasn't even ready to think about it apparently, ta everso. 

He trudged up the stairs to the dorm he shared with his best mates. Even though he'd spent the whole day sleeping, maybe a nap would do him some good, help him clear his head. Some Snape-free rest was probably just what he needed.

¤¤¤¤¤

Some Snape-free sleep was not just what he needed or, if it was, he didn't get any of it. As soon as he'd closed his eyes, he could only picture Snape sucking his cock, Snape fingering his arse, Snape urging him to come. He must have drifted off at some point because the noise of the other Marauders entering the room woke him, but his head definitely did not feel any more clear.

"Hey, Prongs," Sirius greeted him, his tone cheeky and knowing. "Have a good day there, mate?"

Flipping him two fingers cheerfully, James said, "Oi, you know exactly what my day was like, ya cunt!" He laughed loudly with them and rolled his eyes as they all made wanking gestures at him. Maybe he should have gone straight to them instead of coming back here alone in the first place. Being teased by his mates made him feel more normal than he'd felt all day. 

"Erm, so did Madam Pomfrey, you know… take care of it for you?" Peter wiggled his brows as he asked. His light eyes were wide and mirthful, setting them all off in a fresh round of laughter.

"My dear Wormtail," James began, clutching at his chest with false affront, "how could you ever think that I'd allow Madam Pomfrey to besmirch my honour in such a way?" Giving Peter a playful shove, he said, "Nah, she just gave me a potion and I had to sleep the day away." Hopefully, they wouldn't ask any more about it than that. 

He was lucky because Remus then pulled a stack of parchment from his bag and handed it to James. "Well, here are the notes you missed. Hurry and copy them so I can get started on my essay for Minnie."

"Come on, Moony," Sirius groaned, rolling his grey eyes. "You have all week to get that done and we haven't seen Prongs all day. We have to tell him about Snivellus at least."

James' head jerked up at that. "What about Se- Snape?" he asked, praying that they wouldn't notice him stumbling over the name. Their old nickname for the Slytherin just didn't feel right to say to his friends after what he'd been through inside his own mind these past few hours. Even saying it to himself was beginning to feel forced. 

Sirius started laughing wildly and Peter looked amused while Remus looked at them both with sight disapproval. When Sirius had finally pulled himself together he started, "Well, since  _ someone _ was out getting his nut off..."

"That was your fault!" James objected. 

"Whatevs" Sirius waved him off. "Slughorn made me sit with Snivelly in potions. So he was sitting there looking all intense, just taking notes and working on his potion, greasy hair all hanging in his face and I couldn't even take it. So I leaned down under the table like I'd dropped something and cast a Patiens Pluviam at him." He dissolved into laughter again and Peter took over. 

"It was so funny! When the first drop hit him he just flinched like someone threw something at him and kept working. He's used to that, I guess. Then the rain started coming down faster and it was running into his cauldron and all over his books. He just stood up and left the classroom and the rain followed him right out," Peter finished between giggles. "Padfoot kept such a straight face, no one even knew who'd done it until he told us at lunch."

James nervously laughed along with them. What else could he do? His heart really was not in it though. It was true, that was the kind of thing they always did to Snape. Usually he was participating, if not instigating, and he'd never had a problem with it before. So why now? 

He'd never really thought of Snape as a person before, he realized. Snape had always been something for them to laugh at, a poor, skinny Slytherin skulking in the shadows and all but begging to be teased. He just couldn't think of Snape like that anymore, not with the words "my dove" ringing in his ears.

Without another word, he bent his head and picked up his quill to finish copying Moony's notes. He couldn't focus on that either, though. He was only wondering if Snape knew the counter to the Slow Rain hex or if he was still sitting somewhere, alone and wet. 

Finishing the copywork as quickly as possible, he returned Remus' notes and announced that he was going to get some food from the kitchens. He had missed every meal and he was feeling rather hungry, but he had no intention of going to the kitchens, really. Rather, he was going to find Severus. 

No one thought anything of it when he grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders Map; students weren't meant to have access to the kitchens, after all. Peter called after him to bring back some snacks as he headed out the door, but he didn't bother replying. He'd bring snacks, but it might be a while and he didn't feel like explaining that, or anything else, just now. 

Once in the hallway, securely covered by his cloak, he pulled out the map and quickly muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."  _ We really should have given it a shorter password _ , he thought idly as he scanned the map for Snape's name. After looking all over the dungeons and in the library, he finally found him by himself by the Black Lake.

_ Merlin,  _ he thought, worried. It was already getting dark outside and Snape was alone out there. Why weren't his friends looking for him? He couldn't imagine being alone with no explanation for very long without the other Marauders coming for him. 

Dodging other students and Filch's stupid cat, he made his way down to the ground floor and out of the castle. The brisk Scottish air sent a chill right through him and he couldn't help hoping that Snape was at least dry and bundled up out here. Leaves crunched under his feet as he headed to the lake, though he tried to walk silently.

It took him a moment to even see the other boy, cloaked in darkness as he was. He sat on the ground, his knees pulled to his chest, his chin rested on his knees, and a steady stream of rain pouring down over him. James didn't think he'd ever seen anything so utterly sad before and, unlike the way he'd typically respond to Snape in such a state, the sight made him nearly sick to his empty stomach. 

From beneath his cloak, he pointed his wand at Snape and cast the counter for the hex Sirius had put on him followed quickly by a warming charm. Snape's head snapped up and he looked around him in suspicion. "Who's there?" he asked warily.

James had a decision to make just then. He could walk away now, satisfied that Snape wouldn't freeze to death or drown, or he could expose himself and see what happened. Was there really any question though? He was a Gryffindor, after all.

His heart pounded in his chest as he reached up and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. "It's just me," he said softly.

Faster than he'd have thought possible, Snape was on his feet, his wand clutched in his hand. "What th' fuck do  _ you _ want?" he demanded, his accent, so unlike the typical pureblood Slytherin's, very evident in that moment. 

Quickly tucking his own wand away, James held his hands up and met Snape's dark eyes steadily in the dim moonlight. "I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Sirius told me what he'd done to you," he said.

"I should've known it was one of you," he spat back, making James feel, for the first time ever, rather ashamed to be included as part of the Marauders. "I don't need anything from you, ya stupid cunt." 

The hatred in those dark eyes hurt more than he'd have expected. He'd come into this knowing that the only positive feelings between the two of them only existed in his own potion-induced dreams, but he still wished for more. 

"I know you don't need me, Snape," he shrugged after a beat. "You're a very skilled wizard. I just… Sirius shouldn't have done that to you."

Snape laughed, a harsh humorless sound. "As if you've ever stopped for one second to consider what you should or shouldn't do," he replied with venom in his voice. He flicked his wand and James felt blood welling up across his collarbone, the cut so quick he'd barely felt it. "You're lucky I'm a skilled wizard, Potter. Someone with less control might have cut your arm off. Someone with less talent might have sliced through your useless heart. Get away from me you self-righteous arsehole!"

_ I deserve that,  _ James thought.  _ That and more, probably.  _ He touched his chest, pressing a hand to the thin cut, and thought about all the times that he'd hurt Snape, all the times that he'd humiliated him without a thought. What Sirius did today was nothing compared to what they'd all been doing for the past seven years. 

"I'm so sorry, Snape," he whispered. "I never thought…"

"Of course you never thought," Snape said haughtily. He was less emotional now, sounding more Slytherin and less Derbyshire. "The first time I laid eyes on you, you made it known that you had no interest in thinking and you've not deviated from that even once. I don't know what you're playing at right now, Potter, but I assure you, when it's one on one, I will win every time."

_ I want you to, _ is what James wanted to say at that moment, but he didn't expect that would go over well. In spite of Snape's presumption that he never thought, he did occasionally do so. "I want you to," he said. 

Dammit.

Dark eyes glittered dangerously as Snape stalked closer to him, his head crooked to the side curiously. "Is that what this is about? Does Gryffindor's golden boy want a slimy Slytherin to fuck him?" He poked James' wounded chest with a long pale finger as he studied his face. James winced at the contact, but made no sound. 

Snape came so close that their faces were almost touching. In spite of the danger of the situation – or maybe because of it – James found himself hoping he was about to be kissed, though he knew the likelihood of that was less than zero. He had a deep desire to compare reality with his dreams, somehow sensing that his dreams would pale in comparison should they ever come true. 

"You can go on wanting," Snape whispered, his breath hot on James' face. "If I had wanted you, I'd have called out Maggot."

That said, he pushed past James, driving his shoulder into him hard as he stalked back toward the castle and disappeared into the darkness.

_ That went well, _ James thought with a sigh, pulling his wand from his pocket to heal himself. 


	3. I'm Dying

The next few days were a trial of subtlety. James Potter did not do subtle particularly well, and he felt like subtle was slowly killing him. He didn't know what else to do, though. 

He had to subtly steer Sirius away from bullying Snape, he had to subtly watch Snape every chance he got, and he had to subtly ignore the fact that he'd sworn a mere few days ago that Snape was the person he least desired. All of his subtle actions definitively proved that to be a lie. 

When he wasn't doing his Gryffindor best to manipulate the situation, he was busy with school, with Quidditch, and with an almost constant desire to be wanking as images from his dreams intersected with images from his fight with Snape by the Black Lake that night. No, he had not particularly liked being cut open and berated, but a fiery, in-control Severus Snape apparently did it for him. 

Those dark eyes had seemed to hold bottled lightning, the icy confidence in his movements felt like the moment before a storm. The way he had gone from sitting sadly to alert and on edge like a caged animal sent James reeling. He began to understand why he'd spent so many years provoking Snape. Having such heat directed at him was utterly intoxicating. 

"Say, Prongsy," Peter asked him as he emerged from behind his bed curtains, "are you sure the cure to that hex worked? You're spending an awful lot of time in there lately." He gestured vaguely at James' bed, ignoring the glare James shot him. 

"Aw, Prongs is fine!" Sirius laughed. "He's probably thinking about the cure… oh, Madam Pomfrey… touch me again!" He moaned in a high-pitched teasing tone. 

James laughed along. "Whatevs," he replied cheerfully. "We all know you two are getting one off together," he said pointedly at Sirius and Remus, "while you are hiding behind your curtains with entire cheesecakes," he said to Peter. "We've all got our vices."

Remus' face went pink while Sirius smirked proudly. "Yeah, yeah," he drawled. "There's no secrets here. So maybe you should tell us who's caught your eye and sent you running for a wank every chance you get."

Sometimes he forgot how perceptive Sirius could be. And if Sirius had guessed that much, Remus was probably more than halfway to figuring out exactly who it was. Sometimes he really hated his friends. 

"You know what?" James intoned. "I don't think I will." Slipping his shoes on, he strutted out the door whistling. May as well just leave them guessing. He was not ready for that conversation. 

¤¤¤¤¤

Having no real destination in mind, he decided to make his way to the library. He didn't have any school things with him, but maybe he could find something interesting to read anyway; even if not, having a quiet place to think sounded amazing.

When he got there, he found that it had been an excellent decision on his part. The table in the far corner was occupied by one Severus Snape. They were both alone and in a place where neither would be allowed to fight. Maybe, just maybe, this would be his chance to make a positive impression on him. 

He paused and grabbed a random book off the shelf so as not to look suspicious, then quietly walked over to Snape's table and took a seat across from him. As soon as he sat, he found Snape's dark eyes glaring at him. If looks could kill, James wouldn't be there anymore and Snape would probably be a happier man.

"What do you want now, Potter?" he hissed. 

Giving him one of his patented crooked smiles, James whispered back, "Just here to read about, erm," he looked down at the book in his hand, "my changing body." He winced before looking cheekily back at Snape.

Rolling his eyes, Snape sighed and said, "Do get on with it then." He returned to his own reading and proceeded to ignore James entirely. James couldn't help but think that this was probably the best outcome he could hope for right now. 

He settled in and began actually reading about wizard puberty, admirably resisting the urge to run the tip of his toe up Snape's calf as he sat across from him. Probably for the best as he thought, if he'd done that, he'd be more likely to lose a leg than anything. 

Somehow, he found the simple book strangely engrossing. He hadn't actually known all that much about his own anatomy, but the author, Helen Hatpink, was really laying it all out for him.  _ Maybe I should take this back to the boys _ , he thought when he determined that the amazing little spot in his arse must be his prostate.  _ They could probably stand to know some of this too.  _

So engrossed was he that he was startled when Snape began gathering his things up. 

"Oh!" he said, quickly closing the book, "Are you done now?"

"Am I finished watching you struggle to get through a book written for 11-year-olds?" Snape sneered. "Yes, Potter, I've been done with that since the moment you invaded my space." He turned to stalk out of the library then, his robes flapping behind him, and James hurried to follow.

"Well, where are you going now?" he asked, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. 

"Someplace where you aren't," Snape replied, quickening his pace.

James was all but running to keep up now. How could someone shorter than him be so fucking fast? 

"Or you could go someplace where I am," he suggested impertinently, grinning. 

One moment he'd been jogging along, trying to keep up with Snape. The next moment, he found himself shoved up against the wall, Snape's long fingers gripping the front of his robes, his wand pressed against his throat. James was acutely reminded of being sliced open by the lake mere nights ago, of the reason that the Marauders had an unspoken rule to never go after Snape alone. He was scrappy and he was feral. 

"What makes you think that I want to be around you? Just because everyone else in this school worships the ground you walk on does not mean that I do. You and your gang of idiots have cost me enough, Potter. Leave me the fuck alone!" His dark eyes were wild and his lips were pulled back revealing crooked teeth. 

The heat in those eyes was not the kind of heat James wanted to see there, but at least it was something. The dichotomy between the sweet caress of "my dove" and the way he made "Potter" sound like an insult was not lost on him. He desperately wanted to bridge that gap.

"I'll do anything! I'll let you do anything!" he gasped, Gryffindor recklessness reigning in his mind. He wrapped his hands around Snape's wrists, holding him in place. "I know that I've fucked up, Snape. I've been awful to you and I don't deserve it, but I'll do anything for a chance to prove myself to you."

His eyes narrowed and James noted the perfect slope of his dark eyebrows. How had he never noticed before how incredibly striking Snape was? 

"Anything?" he intoned thoughtfully. "You'll do anything, James Potter?" At James' nod he continued coldly, "Perhaps I will believe you if you hold Lupin up in the courtyard, if you take off  _ his _ pants in front of the school."

The blood drained from James' face as the weight of what Snape was asking of him sank in. "But," he objected meekly, "but why?"

Lowering his hands from James' person, Snape leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Because he exists." 

James stayed against the wall, pale and shaken, as Snape walked away without another word. Thinking back on the incident in question, James couldn't even argue that Snape was being unfair. From what he could remember, it was after they had done that to him that he'd stopped being friendly with Lily. Their actions had somehow damaged Snape's closest friendship and had humiliated him beyond belief. All that Snape was asking was that he do the same thing to his own friends that he'd done to him. That was the worst part, the poetic justice of it all. 

He could even see why he'd chosen Remus of all James' friends. Snape was cunning and calculating; he'd easily been able to pick out what would be the most damaging to the Marauders' friendship. Sirius would easily laugh the whole thing off and Peter was too low-key to make enough of an impact. Hurting Remus, though, would make everyone turn on him and it would hurt all of them. 

Honestly, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place here. Did he want Snape badly enough to give up everyone else that was important to him? He didn't think so. But on the other hand, Snape's suggestion had shone a blinding light on all of the damage that he and his friends had caused. He didn't know how to reconcile the horrible bullying that he and his friends had done with the good people he knew them all to be.

"My dove." The words floated through his mind like a dream. Would two wrongs really make this right? Could he soar away in purity by causing more harm? He had caused so much already.

He had no idea how long he'd been standing there, lost in thought and melancholy, when he heard someone say his name.

"Earth to James Potter!" Blinking, he looked down and saw Lily Evans looking at him with concern. "Ah, there you are!" she said brightly when she saw that she had his attention. "Are you alright?"

He started to say yes, of course he was fine, but the kindness in her green eyes spoke to him somehow. He had been nearly as awful to her as he had been to Snape, yet she was standing here making sure that he was okay in spite of it. "Not really," he said softly. There was a chance that she could help; she'd been friends with Snape at one point, after all. "Do you think… could I speak with you in private?" he asked. 

Cocking her head in confusion, she agreed and called to her friends that she'd catch up to them later. Then she led him to a nook with a bench by a window nearby.

"So… what's up?" she asked after they'd gotten settled in, curiosity and concern shining from her face. 

He had not planned to tell anyone about any of this. He was warring with his own thoughts and feelings and he really didn't want to add other people's judgment to the turmoil he was already experiencing. But something about Lily called to him, made him feel like she would be safe to talk to. She might judge him for acting like an arse, but he deserved that; he didn't think she'd judge him for wanting to try to fix things or for wanting affection from someone he never thought he'd want it from. 

She looked at him patiently. Patiently, she gave him the time he needed to compose himself, to be ready to speak, and ironically, that was what gave him the courage to do so. In the face of her patience and willingness to listen, he broke down and told her everything, from dreaming about Severus to the encounters he'd had with him since then to the things he wanted to build with Snape and the ultimatum he'd been given in order to have any kind of chance with him. 

"Oh, Sev," she sighed, looking incredibly sad. "First of all, you've got a lot of ground to cover with him, James Potter. He is broken and that's partly your fault," she admonished.

"I know. That's the only reason I'm even considering doing it. I can't… I mean, it's just hard to look back on the things I've done. He didn't deserve it," he said.

"No, he didn't," she said firmly, "but he's not innocent either. Merlin, his friends are horrid and he just goes along with it all. And I've seen him fight back to you. He's not a nice person, James."

"Isn't that the point, though? He's fought back. He's never started it. And now I'm here realizing that I only ever started it because I was attracted to him and I didn't know how to deal with it. Clearly I'm not a nice person either, Lily." 

She smiled softly at him and laid a small hand over his. "You're right," she said. "You haven't been a nice person. But you're trying to be better. Maybe the two of you deserve each other." Her expression was pensive. "I'll help you," she said finally. "I don't think you should do what he wants you to do, and I think maybe he'll listen to me if I speak to him about it."

Suddenly, James was filled with more genuine happiness than he had been in days. "You'd do that for me?" he asked hopefully. 

"Not really," she said. "I'll do it for Sev and I'll do it because I'm so tired of your bullying, James. No matter what happens, that has to stop."

"It will!" he replied earnestly. "I don't want to be that guy anymore. Seeing myself through someone else's eyes… I hate it."

"Good," she said. "I'll take care of Severus then, and you need to go take care of your friends. Tell them, James. If you want to be different, talking to them is the first step. You've got to make them stop, too." She squeezed his hand and then stood. "I'll keep you posted."

¤¤¤¤¤

After talking with Lily, James found that he did really feel better. He wandered the castle for a while, wondering if talking with his friends would fill him with as much joy as talking to Lily would. He was nervous about their reaction to his change of heart, but in the end, he really didn't have much to lose. If he didn't talk with them about it, they'd carry on with what they'd been doing, and that wouldn't turn out well for anyone. It had never turned out well, if he was being honest. 

"Hello, handsome," the fat lady greeted him when he got to the entrance of Gryffindor Tower. "Something got you down?"

He smiled at her. "I just need to have a talk with my friends. I'm sort of nervous about it," he said.

"Oh, don't worry about them. The four of you are friends for life," she said with a wink. "Believe me. I've seen many young Gryffindors and friendships like yours are rare, but true." 

His smile grew wider at that. Maybe everything would be okay. "Thanks," he told her, then added "Bumbleshoot," the password, before he climbed inside the common room. 

¤¤¤¤¤

"Prongs! Prongsy. Darling. Tell me it isn't true!" Sirius moaned in dramatic fashion after he'd told them some of what was going on in his head. He'd left out the gritty details, but they really didn't need to know the specifics.

While Sirius was caught up in theatrics, Remus just gazed at him with concern while Peter looked thoughtful munching on a plateful of pumpkin pasties.

"It's true," James said patiently. "I've been running from it for days, but I can't deny it anymore. I really like him."

"How does he feel about it, though?" Peter asked, licking his fingers thoughtfully. "He can't be excited by you coming on to him. We haven't been exactly nice to him."

James sighed miserably. That was putting it lightly, he thought, running his hand over his chest where Snape had cut him a few nights before. "He's not," he said. "And we really need to cut that shit out anyway. It's a bad look for us and for Gryffindor." He tried to sound firm, like a good leader, but he wasn't sure he'd really get through to them, especially Sirius. 

"Anyway, I spoke with Lily," he continued, "and she's going to try to talk to him. He really wants nothing to do with me at the moment." That was putting it mildly. 

"Well, having Lily as your go-between is probably the best idea you've ever had," Remus said practically. "If anyone can help you with Snape, it's her."

It hadn't exactly been James' idea; she just happened to be there. But he was sure that Remus was right about that either way. He ran a hand through his hair and flopped back on his bed, not really sure what else to say.

As it turned out, there was no need to say anything. A moment later, a bright, silvery doe appeared in their room, spoke two words – "The lake" – then vanished.

"Was that Snape's patronus?" Peter asked, surprise and awe evident in his voice. "I wouldn't have thought he could even make one."

James didn't care about that. The fact was that it was Snape's patronus. It had to be because that was his voice. And it was a doe. A doe!

"Maybe you're more right for each other than I'd have thought, Prongsy," Sirius said softly after the doe had faded. "What are the odds of him having that patronus?" He looked skeptical and vaguely annoyed, but James didn't have time to think about that. 

"I've gotta go!" James said, his mind far from his friends. If Snape wanted him to be at the lake, he'd be at the lake. He had no idea how Lily had managed to get through to him so quickly, but he wasn't about to question it. The magic of witches was not something he could explain.

He slipped his shoes back on, grabbed a heavy cloak, and was out the door before anyone could say another word. 


	4. Sweet Like Candy

The sun was glinting off the lake as James approached it. Two of the giant squid's tentacles played near the far shore, lightly splashing in the shallow water. Snape was standing just where he'd been sitting a few nights ago, and Lily stood there with him. James had never seen Snape looking so happy before, aside from within his potion-induced dreams. 

Lily spotted him first and waved him over to them. Snape's face tightened a bit as he followed her gaze, but he looked resigned to, at the very least, speaking with James. 

When he got to them, James didn't exactly know what to say. It wasn't like him to be at a loss for words, but his emotions had been running incredibly high these past few days and he felt like he was running out of ways to express himself. His past forms of self-expression had certainly not worked out well for anyone. He looked to Lily, hoping she'd give him some kind of opener. 

Instead she smiled warmly at each of them in turn and gathered her things. "Well, I'll leave you to it!" she said brightly before walking away and leaving them alone for the third time in as many days. 

He looked at Snape, at the sunlight shining on his black hair. Staring at him here in the harsh light of day, he could see evidence of his apparent poverty: shabby robes that were clearly meticulously tended, but still had a worn look, his sleeves just a few inches too short. He wondered if all of the things he'd once tormented the man about could have been things that he really couldn't help. Hell, who was he to make fun of someone else's hair? He couldn't even seem to tame his own and he had the power of a famous family-owned line of hair care products on his side. 

They stared at each other for a moment as if seeing for the first time. Finally, Snape spoke first.

"You got Lily to speak to me." His dark eyes were soft, almost watery. He bit his lip as if trying to hold his emotions inside. 

"I didn't really know what to do," James said. "I want to make things right with you, to show you how I'm changing, to prove that I'm not that awful person anymore. But I don't want to do it by causing more damage." He gazed into fathomless eyes, willing Snape to see how earnest and true he was. "She was there at the right time. I think she's been really worried about you."

"Yes," Snape said simply. "She does not like my housemates and thinks that they are influencing me negatively. She's likely correct." He looked down at his hands and James noted how his nails were painted black. He liked it. It suited Snape. "But I have no one else. I have nothing." Passion crept into his voice.

"Look at me," he continued. "I am poor, pathetic. Without them, I have no prestige, no power, no opportunities."

James struggled to understand. He guessed that he was missing something, but he wasn't sure what. "So… they're only your friends because they can do something for you?" he asked.

"They are not my friends," he snapped. "Were you not listening? I have no friends. I have acquaintances that can help to protect me from your gang and whose scraps I might pick up if I make it clear that I can fit in with them."

Suddenly, James realized what Snape was really saying. He had no friends at all. Snape was alone completely. James himself had contributed to that isolation when he'd helped to drive Lily away from him. 

"Snape… Severus," he began, his bold reckless nature driving him forward. "I would really like to be your friend. Or more. Anything you want."

Thin lips drew into an even thinner line. "Why?" Snape asked flatly. 

"Merlin, Snape. You're smart and passionate and so damn compelling. And I've been a complete arse to you, so I understand if you don't buy it, but it's true!" He felt as if he were standing on the edge of a cliff and he knew that Snape was either about to jump with him or push him over the edge. 

"What exactly brought all of this on, Potter?" His eyes were narrowed in suspicion. "I can't say I'm not grateful for Lily to have, at the very least, allowed me to apologize to her. But I do not understand why you're doing this now. What kind of game are you playing at?"

Swallowing uncomfortably, James let the words spill rapidly from his mouth. "Madam Pomfrey gave me a potion on Wednesday that made me have these dreams. And you were in them. And she said it was the person I desired most. I didn't believe her, but then I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Which potion?" Snape looked intrigued, as if when potions were mentioned, he'd forgotten to be suspicious. 

"Erm," James thought hard. "I don't exactly know. Sirius hit me with Protelo Rigida and I had to go to her to fix it." When he realized what he'd just confessed, his cheeks went warm. 

The expression that slowly formed on Snape's thin face was one that James was certain he'd never seen the man make before. His eyes went wide and his lips curved into an incredulous smile. It was a look of equal parts disbelief and amusement. James was not surprised when he started to laugh, a deep throaty sound that he found indescribably sexy, but he was a bit affronted.

"What's wrong? Did the potion make me feel this way?" he demanded. Dammit! He should have known something fishy was going on when he started having so many feelings for Snape of all people.

"No," Snape gasped. "No, nothing is wrong. I cannot believe that you took Molliphaniae and dreamed of me." He dissolved into laughter again. "I wish I could have seen your face when you woke up."

Oh. That was all. James sagged in relief and began laughing himself. "Well, it was... rather a shock," he said sheepishly, setting Snape off again. 

When they had both exhausted their fits of laughter, they found themselves sitting on the grass by the lake, side by side. It began in awkward silence, the air having been cleared by James' confession, but neither really knowing what to say to the other. Then, suddenly, James began talking, and the more he spoke, the more he felt unable to stop speaking. 

He told Snape about his friends, how good and funny they were when they weren't being cruel to people who didn't deserve it. He told him of his love of flying and how he really couldn't imagine doing anything else with his life, though he knew he wouldn't make it in the Pros. He told him about his childhood, about his parents and how kind and generous they were, how he wasn't sure how they'd managed to raise a son who could be so terrible. 

"I do not think that you're terrible, exactly," Snape responded slowly. "You can be, of course, and you are, more often than not. But more than that I think that you are reckless, quick to judge, and slow to think."

"Oh, so you just think I'm stupid?" James teased. 

"Yes." he said flatly, but his eyes danced in wicked amusement. 

"That's fair," James laughed. 

Gradually, Snape began to talk too. James learned how alone he had always felt, how Lily had been his only friend ever, how poor his home life was, both in finances and in love. He felt like he was being given a precious treasure, like Snape did not often open up like this and he had every intention of treating this gift with the care and honour that it deserved. 

"Maybe you could come home with me over the hols," he suggested. "My parents wouldn't mind and you'd have a separate room, of course. Unless you don't want one," he finished cheekily.

Avoiding the suggestion entirely, Snape turned to face him intensely. "What happened in those dreams of yours when we shared a room, Potter?" The dark intensity that James had been so turned on by nights ago in this very spot had returned, and it was focused on him in an entirely different way this time. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as butterflies flooded his stomach. 

Flashing a smile at Snape, he tried to look more confident than he felt. "Well, the one that I can't stop thinking about wasn't in a bedroom at all," he said with a wink. 

Raising an eyebrow at him, Snape looked away. "Intriguing," he murmured. "Even if I wanted to, I could not come with you over the holidays. Lucius Malfoy has invited some of us to his home." He looked back at James, an indefinable expression on his face. "I think that he wishes to introduce us to, well, you know." He shrugged minutely as if he had not just said something utterly horrifying. 

"No," James breathed. They were still in school. Why would Voldemort want people their age? Plus, he had only just developed a very tentative friendship with Snape; what if he joined the Death Eaters and James was forced to fight him in the future. He bit his lip. "You called me your dove," he said, not entirely sure why he'd said that, of all things. 

Snape turned sharply to face him again. "Did I?" he asked in surprise. At James' nod, he continued, "My father used to call my mother that, long ago. The potion you took was well-brewed at the very least."

They sat in silence then, but James' mind was whirling. It seemed that, after talking to Lily, Snape was not as against him as he probably ought to be. Or maybe Snape trusted the results of the potion more than he trusted his own past experiences. Either way, he was content to be here in Snape's company not fighting or teasing for once. 

Suddenly an idea came to James. He couldn't claim to be cunning like Snape assuredly was, but he could at least put forth a thought for consideration. He knew he couldn't out-maneuver a bunch of snakes headed up by Lucius Malfoy, but that didn't mean he couldn't use his own strengths to appeal to Snape.

"My father is in potions, you know?" he said, aiming for a casual tone. 

"Your father makes hair care products," Snape replied dryly. "I'm not surprised you didn't know, though, judging by," he gestured vaguely at James' head, "that."

"Well, yeah," James ignored the jibe. "But that's not all he does. He does a lot of experimental work too. I don't really know the half of it if I'm being honest. Potions isn't my strong suit," he chuckled self-deprecatingly.

Smirking, Snape said, "I wasn't aware that you had a strong suit, Potter."

James laughed. "I don't know. I'd say I'm fair at transfiguration," he said, then added conspiratorially, "I'm an animagus, you know."

Raising a dark eyebrow, Snape looked him over appraisingly. "Will wonders never cease," he said. 

Flashing a proud, pleased grin, James continued, "My point is, Snape, you don't have to count on Malfoy to help you make a name for yourself. And you definitely don't need You-Know-Who. There are other connections you could make."

Dark eyes narrowed at him. "Connections that have been cut off from me until you decided you wanted something, you insufferable twit," he hissed, his mood shifting with an abruptness that left James reeling. It was as if he'd only just remembered who he was sitting there with.

That was not the reaction he'd been hoping for. Not at all. "No, Snape, look," he said in a desperate scramble to fix things before Snape decided cutting hexes were back on the table. "I will introduce you to my father and then leave you alone forever if that's what you want. I've been horrid to you and that's the least I could do to make it up to you. I just want you to know you've got other options."

"Oh, its either pity me or fuck me, is that it?" he snapped.

James flopped back onto the grass. "I never said  _ I  _ wanted to fuck  _ you," _ he said softly, leaving all other possibilities open. 

Glancing over at Snape, he could see the gears turning in his head. His eyes widened, his mouth dropped open a bit. "I should be going," he said after a beat. 

Snape stood and James leaned up on one elbow to watch him. "Just think about it, okay?"

Pausing, Snape gazed down his hooked nose at him before nodding. "Write to your father. I'd need to know what he has to say before I can think about it," he said haughtily. 

James readily agreed. He watched Snape walking away, admiring the way his shabby robes swished behind him as if they, too, knew that he was better than them. He pulled his glasses off and lay back down in the grass. There was no doubt in his mind that his friends had been watching the map and, now that Snape had walked away, were on their way down to him. 

Throwing an arm over his face, he thought and he waited. There was no denying that he was in a rather better position now than he had been hours ago before Lily's intervention, but he was more confused and concerned than ever. Mentally, he began composing a letter to his father. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm mentioning this only because I've been struggling with it for a while, but after a lot of consideration, I'm really certain that this was a necessary scene. Please do not think that Snape is over all of James' shit, because I assure you that he is not. Lol His shock over Lily speaking to him again and James' potion mishap might have given James a temporary reprieve and a bit of an opening, but he's still going to have to work really hard to move forward. Or to not move too far backward, as the case may be.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, Snape is feeling more like himself now.

_ Dear Dad, _

_ I've made a new friend – well, I'm sort of hoping he'll be more than a friend someday – but I could really use your advice. Or he could. Both? Probably both.  _

_ He's in Slytherin. He's half-blood and his family isn't well off, but he's incredible and I never even saw it before. I've been, well, a bit of an arse to him before and I really want to try to fix it. He's so smart and so talented, but he doesn't see any prospects for himself outside of bowing to the Malfoys or worse.  _

_ Potions is his specialty. He's a genius, dad, you should see his work. I told him that he had other options and that you might be able to open some doors for him. Please help him. He's willing to listen to anything you've got to say, I think, but he's pretty well decided to go to the Malfoys over the Christmas hols, and I have a really bad feeling about that.  _

_ His name is Severus Snape. If you could write to him, I'd be really grateful. I'm not sure what else to do. _

_ -James _

Never before had he written anything like that to his father. Usually he kept his correspondence as generic and vague as possible, not because he didn't love his parents, but because he really couldn't be bothered with writing much or having them ask too many questions about the mischief he got up to at Hogwarts. Now was not the time for vague platitudes though. He was desperate for help and the holidays were mere weeks away. 

He hadn't even spoken to Snape since that Saturday by the lake, but he'd done a not insignificant amount of staring at him and he felt like they were still okay. He'd seen Lily speak to him a few times and he loved the way those black eyes lit up when she graced him with her presence. He hoped that one day they'd light up like that for him. 

He was still wanking every chance he got and it was starting to feel a bit perfunctory. Stroking his own cock was nice, but he wanted so much more. He wanted Severus.  _ I've got a big dick and I'm tired of being responsible for my own actions,  _ he thought. He wanted raw, unbridled passion without all of these hangups. 

At the same time, though, he thought maybe, just maybe, the hangups would make it more worthwhile in the end. Did he want to be shoved against the wall and fucked hard? Yes. Yes, he was quite certain that he did. But perhaps it would be even better if he could have that more than once, if he could have the raw passion along with trust and commitment. His dick was going to have to wait; whatever he may want, responsibility insisted on being his top priority. 

¤¤¤¤¤

Thursday evening, James was sweaty and tired from a long Quidditch practice. They were scheduled to play Hufflepuff that Saturday, the last match before the holidays. He was walking with Marlene across the muddy pitch when Peter came running up to him. 

"You have to come," he puffed, bracing his hands against his knees, "stop them from fighting."

"Merlin, what now?" he asked, not that he really needed to. There was no doubt in his mind that Sirius was the one fighting and, since Peter had come to him and not Remus, he was sure that it was Snape, not Regulus, that he was fighting with. "Where are they?" he amended. 

"Outside the Great Hall," he said, swooning and grabbing Marlene's muscular arm as if he were dying. She laughed and held him up as James took off. 

"You two look good together!" he called, chuckling as he ran back to the castle. He was fairly certain that Marlene wasn't into wizards at all, but the two of them did look rather cute, if mismatched, together. 

As soon as he got through the door, he heard Sirius' taunting. "It's bad enough that you hang around with my brother. Now you've got my best friend hanging all over you too, you slimy arsewipe!"

"Unlike some people, Black, I don't push myself in where I am unwanted," Snape replied sharply. He was pacing back and forth like a cornered animal, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, his eyes wild and dangerous. 

Sirius raised his wand and James saw red. How dare he attack Snape, knowing that he was trying to make amends, knowing that he wanted Snape so badly. How dare he attack Snape when his best mate had all but begged him to quit? Sirius had always been reckless and impulsive but he had never turned on James before. 

"Expelliarmus!" he called, catching Sirius' wand before he could cast a single spell. All coherent thought left him. He dropped both wands and barreled forward, slamming into Sirius. Tumbling to the floor, James began raining blows down on him. He was sweaty and hot and geared up from practice, he didn't notice the sting in his knuckles as he landed hit after hit, didn't notice the blossoming bruises on his face as Sirius matched him punch for punch. He knew nothing but rage, but the release of days' worth of pent up frustration, until, suddenly, cool strong hands were pulling him away.

He could see Regulus across the hall, pulling Sirius back, talking him down. "Calm yourself, Potter," a low voice murmured in his ear. He knew then that Snape was the one who had pulled him back and he sagged, feeling the fight go out of him. 

"He's an arse," James muttered, only to receive a low humorless chuckle in response.

"If you're only now figuring that out, you're even slower than I thought," Snape replied sharply, leading him away from the Great Hall corridor and into a nearby window nook. "Sit," he instructed as he shoved James down on the bench there, pulling a pot of bruise paste from his pocket.

"Do you just have that on you all the time?" James asked in surprise. It was one thing to be into potions, but entirely another to carry them around with you constantly. 

As he rubbed some of the paste into the tender skin around James' right eye, he said, "If you thought about it for even a moment, I'm certain the reasoning would penetrate even your thick skull."

James did think. Why would Snape need… Oh.  _ Oh. _ "I'm an arse, too," he said.

"Yes," Snape replied, his nimble fingers finishing James' face and moving to his knuckles. "If you were coming to my rescue, it was entirely unnecessary and entirely unwelcome." His voice was harsh and firm. "I will admit, though, it did not pain me to see Sirius Black get some of what he deserves."

Shifting uncomfortably, James said, "He hit me, too."

"True," he said with a self-satisfied smirk, then shrugged minutely. "You hit him more, though."

"I wasn't coming to your rescue." James flexed his hand after Snape had dropped it. "You can take care of yourself against him, I know that. But he was talking rubbish about me, too. If I do something he doesn't like, I must be brainwashed or something?? That's shite."

Snape studied him for a moment, then sat down gracefully beside him. "You feel that he attacked your honour," he said. It wasn't a question. 

"Exactly!" James breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that Snape was able to put it into words because he knew that he wouldn't have been able to. "I don't even know what his problem is," he complained. 

Snape studied his nails, picking gently at a thumb where the black polish had chipped away. "From what I could gather during his tirade, I would say that he feels he's being replaced," he said in a bored tone. "I honestly couldn't care less about him, Potter."

"James," he corrected. "Please call me James."

Dark eyes narrowed as if to say that he'd do no such thing, but he didn't reply. "You stink," he said finally. 

"Yeah, I know," James grinned. "Peter came running out just after Quidditch practice. I didn't have time to shower, just ran straight here."

"Why?"

"Why??" James was incredulous. "Because I knew he was attacking you! Obviously."

"And if I had been the one attacking him?" Snape asked.

"You wouldn't!" What was Snape even going on about? He'd stopped Sirius from hurting him, getting hurt himself in the process. Why was he being interrogated now?

"Humor me," Snape said dryly. 

There was no real doubt in his mind that Snape was more intelligent, more cunning, than he was. He knew that he was trying to make some kind of point, but for the life of him, James couldn't figure out what it was. If Snape had been the instigator… "I'd still have done the same thing," he said softly.

"And yet you say you were not swooping in to defend me? My knight in shining Gryffindor armour?" His voice was thick with sarcasm and something about that made James' cock twitch in his pants. 

"No," he said firmly. "It's not that. I've asked him to lay off. We've been provoking you for years, Severus. Years! Even if you'd started something, he should have been mature enough to back down just because I asked him to. He's my best mate and he couldn't even do something so simple when I asked him to," he ranted.

"I'd do anything for him!" he continued. "And… well, we've been horrid little fucks to you all this time. After he realized that, he should have tried to be better. I'm so thick that it took me seven years to figure it out, but I've tried to be a better person since then. Why wouldn't he?"

Snape stared at him for a moment longer, his face unreadable. "You might be alright, Potter," he said. "But you still stink. I'm going to the library." 

"Wait!" James said, not done studying that thin face. "Why did you heal me?"

In a flash, he was being hauled up by his collar and pressed against the wall, a deceptively strong forearm pushed firmly against his chest. He stood there calmly and looked down into dark angry eyes; he could certainly have broken free from Snape's hold, but he had no desire to do so. It felt too good, having Severus invading his personal space, not knowing what to expect. He loved the press of his body, the heat in his eyes, the unpredictable wildness of this feral man's undivided attention. 

"If someone is going to hurt you, James Potter," he hissed, "it should be me. Don't you think that I've earned that right?" James nodded, his cock suddenly hard against his groin. He was certain Snape knew it, too, judging by the wicked smirk on his face. 

"Good," he said, releasing James and patting his chest patronizingly. "I do not know what this is yet, Potter, but don't think that I won't use it to my advantage." There was something tragic in his face, his magic still pressed against James, though he'd stepped back. "I want to own you. But I do not trust you" he confessed darkly, "and I don't know that I want to."

At that, he stalked away without a backward glance, leaving James wondering what exactly had just happened. It felt like something had changed, but for the life of him, he wasn't sure what. 

¤¤¤¤¤

He went back to the Quidditch pitch to shower and change, not at all interested in going back to his dorm where Sirius was likely licking his wounds. Or having them licked for him. He shuddered at the thought. Walking in on him and Remus was never an especially great experience, but it would be even worse under these circumstances. 

He'd showered and changed in a perfunctory manner, not even touching his needy cock. "Settle down," he told it, annoyed. There were more important things to think about than wanking and why hadn't his prick gotten the memo? 

Once he'd showered and shaved and decided that he must smell at least somewhat better, he looked at himself in the mirror. There was nothing to be done for his hair, but he couldn't see anything else wrong with him. His eyes were bright behind his glasses and his jaw was sharp. With a disgusted sigh, he turned away. As if it was his appearance that had Snape rejecting him, he scoffed. No. The rejection was solely based on his actions. The mirror was not going to help him here. 

He didn't really know what to do with himself, though. Going back to the dorms and having an uncomfortable conversation seemed incredibly unappealing just then, though he knew it would have to happen sooner or later.

Instead, he headed to the library. Snape had told him he'd be there. He wasn't sure if that had been an invitation or a way of warning him off, but there really wasn't anywhere else for him to be at the moment. If Snape didn't want him around, there was no doubt that he'd make it abundantly clear. 

Grabbing a random book off the shelf again, he breathed in the pleasant dusty smell of old books as he made his way to the table he knew that Snape preferred, back in the far corner of the library. He noticed Lily smirking at him from another table as he walked by, so he gave her a thumbs up and grinned before sitting down across from Snape.

"What do you want  _ now _ , Potter?" Snape asked without looking up from his studies. 

"You said you were coming here, so I thought I'd keep you company. I'm reading up on," he looked down. Dammit. "Male pregnancy," he mumbled. Why was the sexual health shelf in such a conspicuous place, anyway? 

Snape looked up then and snorted. "Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you?" he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "The way I understand it, you only learned what an erection was last week." 

It was as if their previous encounter hadn't even happened and it left James' head spinning. He wasn't sure he had the mental wherewithal to really go up against a Slytherin. 

Cheerfully ignoring that decidedly unhelpful thought, James flipped him two fingers and opened the book to read, out of spite if nothing else. It couldn't hurt to know about pregnancy anyway; he might get up the duff sometime. Who knew? Idly, he wondered if he could shift to his animagus form while pregnant. Then he wondered what a pregnant stag would look like. Male pregnancy seemed rather complicated he decided when he noticed that Snape was staring at him. 

Looking up, he pushed his glasses up his nose and asked, "What's up?"

"You're actually reading that," Snape said, surprise evident in his low voice.

"Yeah," James shrugged. "I like to know things. I just don't like school stuff."

Snape gazed at him a moment longer, his face pinched as if he were trying to decipher a puzzle. "Your father wrote me," he said finally. 

Curiosity piqued, James asked eagerly, "What'd he say?"

"That if I ever hurt his little boy he'd Avada Kedavra me," he said mockingly, rolling his dark eyes. "He offered to meet with me over the holidays to determine if he knew a job where I might be a good fit," he said. "He seemed… intelligent enough. Unlike his son."

James grinned. That was the Snape he liked so much. He was rapidly becoming less infatuated with "my dove" and more into the constant stream of insults that flowed from those snarky lips. "So are you going to do it?" he asked.

Fiddling with his quill, running it between his long fingers to the point of distraction, Snape finally replied, "Perhaps."

Gratitude rushed through James. He knew Snape's admission that he was considering it was the absolute best he'd get from the man and he was chuffed to take it. He was certain that he should comment, but couldn't seem to make his mouth work properly.

Snape's pale hands, his long fingers tipped with black painted nails, the light blue veins running along the backs of them, were all that he could see. He could imagine those hands on his body, those fingers in his mouth. His skin felt electrified at the thought of it. "I like your hands," he said stupidly.

Dark eyebrows knitted together in annoyance. "Let us hope that my hands can get me employed, then, because my clothing and personality are certainly not going to do it," he snapped.

Throwing all caution to the wind, James reached out and grabbed one of those lovely hands, marveling at how smooth and cool it felt in his own calloused one. Meeting Snape's intense gaze, he said, "Let me help you. Please! I can buy you new robes and, and if you want to you can wear them to the Malfoys but I really hope you'll meet with my dad instead. Please let me, Severus."

Snatching his hand out of James' grasp, he snapped, "I've told you already, I do not need nor do I want your pity."

"Would Lucius Malfoy give you clothes to wear?" James asked softly. "Or would you meet with his acquaintances as you are?" 

Snape just glared darkly at him, not deigning to respond at all. 

"Look," James continued. "You can think of it as self-serving if you like. Maybe I get off on seeing you in my clothes. But there's no strings attached, Snape. I swear it. And haven't you told me that you only hang out with your housemates because of the doors they could open for you? I'm begging you to use me. I'll open up anything for you." He let the innuendo hang in the air between them. 

Dark eyes grew even narrower until Snape stood swiftly, knocking his chair over in the process. "Fuck you," he said in a low voice. 

Madam Pince bustled over to scold him, but he smoothly said, "My apologies, Madam," and brushed past her, looking far more graceful than he had any right to. 

James was left at the table gaping, wondering what on earth he'd done wrong. Then Madam Pince began telling him off.


End file.
